


Slow Mornings Like This

by perpetual_motion



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Dorks in Love, Feelings, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 19:29:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17731247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetual_motion/pseuds/perpetual_motion
Summary: Misha loves Jensen, he knows that. He knows it like he knows the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. It’s an indisputable fact that he’s lived with for ten years now. He never questions anymore. He never gets scared by it anymore. He loves Jensen.





	Slow Mornings Like This

**Author's Note:**

> you ever write something that writes itself? this wrote itself. i was merely a vessel.
> 
> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/perp_m0tion), i post about cockles and loving misha a lot.

Misha loves Jensen, he knows that. He knows it like he knows the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. It’s an indisputable fact that he’s lived with for ten years now. He never questions anymore. He never gets scared by it anymore. He loves Jensen.

Jensen is here, tucked into his side, face pressed lightly against his chest. He’s warm and his breath tickles where his mouth hangs slightly open. Misha used to think it was gross when Jensen drooled on him in his sleep but now he think it’s sweet. Sweet how it pools right below his mouth. Sweet how he always wakes up more groggy when it happens. Sweet how he rushes to clean it off of Misha’s chest.

This morning, he’s still sleeping softly, oblivious to his open mouth and what’s dripping out of it. Misha hates it when he has to be the one to wake him up for work. They don’t technically have to be awake for another hour or so but Jensen has told him many times that if Misha wakes up first, he should wake Jensen up too.

“It’s better when you do it than that annoying alarm,” he’d said. Misha had agreed, only on the condition that Jensen would do the same for him. Rarely, however, does Jensen wake up first.

Misha shifts to regain feeling in his arm where it’s gone numb under Jensen. He briefly considers slipping out of bed to make some coffee but then Jensen makes a noise that usually means _don’t get out of bed yet_ , so he stays.

“You’re awake,” Misha says, and places a kiss to Jensen’s forehead.

“Been awake,” he mumbles, eyes still closed and he sighs, snuggling in closer to Misha’s embrace.

“You drooled on me.”

“You’ll get over it,” Jensen replies, cracking open an eye to see Misha’s reaction. He tries not to smile but the way Jensen’s hair is sticking up, the way his freckles look as a pink tint blooms across his nose and cheeks, the way his scruff scrapes against Misha’s chest when Jensen shifts to look at him, Misha can’t help it. He smiles and it’s the one that says _I’m so fucking in love with you that I barely know what to do when you’re around_. The one that screams _if you don’t kiss me right now I might actually die_.

Jensen’s blush grows deeper as he recognizes the look and moves to kiss Misha, drool be damned. It’s not gross the way it should be. Maybe he’s just used to it by now, or maybe he never really minded at all.

Their kisses are lazy with no heat behind them. They stay like that, kissing softly and looking at each other through tight morning eyes, never minding the drool rapidly drying on Misha’s chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” Misha says, running his fingers around Jensen’s ear like he’s tucking away a stray lock of hair.

“You’re so lame,” Jensen teases. “Always so sentimental in the morning.” He kisses Misha again.

“I love you,” Misha says likes it’s the most obvious thing on the planet. Maybe it is. Maybe every time he looks at Jensen it’s painted across his forehead in giant red letters. Maybe there might as well be a neon sign blinking above his head that says “I love this man” every time he spares a glance in Jensen’s direction.

Jensen looks back at him now with the same look on his face, like Misha is a basket full of puppies or a warm cup of coffee on a cold night.

“I love you, Mish. I don’t say it as often as you do but it’s true,” he says, and then he huffs a laugh. “Now you’ve got me sentimental too.” Misha’s eyes are soft and his smile is now faint but it’s there.

“I know you love me. Of course I know. You wouldn’t let me anywhere near your dick if you didn’t,” he jokes, but he means it and they both know it’s true.

“Speaking of dicks,” Jensen says, deciding he’s had enough sentimentality for now. “We’ve got some time before we need to get ready…”

“You must think you’re special. Think you can drool on my chest and then proposition me for morning sex? Well, you’re right,” Misha says, and Jensen kisses him again, with heat this time.

Kissing Misha never gets old no matter how many times he does it. The way Misha tilts his head so Jensen has better access to his neck, the way he arches his back when Jensen’s mouth closes around a nipple, the way he trembles under Jensen’s lips wherever they go, it never gets old.

“Jensen, wait a sec,” Misha says before Jensen has a chance to settle in between Misha’s legs.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just…I wanna kiss you, is all,” he admits, avoiding Jensen’s gaze. Jensen chuckles and it causes warmth to spread in Misha’s chest.

“You can just ask for a handjob, Mish. You don’t have to feel weird about it,” he reassures him. He doesn’t wait for Misha to respond before he moves back up Misha’s body to settle in beside him, mouth close to his ear. “I’ll take care of you, but I want a blowjob.”

“Kiss me stupid and you’ve got a deal.”

Jensen laughs and says something along the lines of “don’t have to try too hard for that” but then he’s kissing Misha and running his hands across his chest, down his stomach, and finally he’s palming Misha through this boxer briefs.

“Want lube or you want it dry today?”

Misha doesn’t answer with his words, he just reaches for the nightstand and tosses the bottle to Jensen. For Misha’s age, he gets hard pretty quick. Jensen doesn’t have to work him that much before he’s begging for more.

Some days Misha is loud, practically yelling praises and ‘ _you’re so hot_ ’s when he’s inside Jensen. Today he’s quiet, and it has much to do with his mouth being occupied by Jensen. The slick sounds of Jensen’s hand moving on his dick fill the room as Misha moans softly beneath Jensen’s lips. Jensen licks into his mouth to stifle his moans and receives strangled whimpers from Misha’s throat in response.

Misha loves the way Jensen jerks him, loves the way he plays with his cock like it’s the first time he’s ever touched one. Jensen knows how he likes it. He knows that Misha likes it when the palm of his hand is up against the underside of his dick. He knows he goes crazy when Jensen presses the pad of his thumb to the slit. He knows that Misha’s favorite part of Jensen’s handjobs is the way his hand twists on the upstroke, and it has Misha bucking up into his hand.

Jensen doesn’t have to look at Misha’s face to know when he’s close. His mouth always falls open when he’s about to cum, this morning is no different. Jensen works him through it, kissing his jaw and slowing his hand when Misha jerks under his touch. He kisses Misha lazily as he waits for Misha to come down, not caring about the mess on his hand.

He’s ready quicker than usual. Jensen thinks he’s a bit too eager to get his lips around his cock but he’s not one to complain about his partners’ willingness to suck dick. Come to think of it, it’s been a while since he’s been in Misha’s mouth. Too long, actually, and he realizes that fact when Misha sucks him all the way down and he nearly busts right there. He doesn’t care if head lasts, he cares if it feels good, and it feels _good_.

“Fuck, Mish,” he mutters and Misha’s blue eyes flick up to see Jensen’s face, to make sure he’s okay. It’s obscene the way Misha looks with a dick, Jensen’s dick, in his mouth. It’s heaven and hell rolled into one and he can’t look away, not when he’s moving so quickly, not when he’s hallowing his cheeks out and holding his breath, not when he’s pulling off to jerk him against his face and admire Jensen’s dick like it’s a piece of art.

He doesn’t last long after that, spilling down Misha’s throat with a loud moan. Misha pulls off with that wet pop that Jensen loves hearing and moves up to kiss him. Jensen’s gotten used to the taste of himself on other people, it doesn’t bother him anymore. He kisses back.

The alarm goes off.

“Looks like we finished just in time,” Misha muses, nose bumping Jensen’s.

“I love you,” he says, and it’s not what he meant to say. Jensen flushes red, lighting up the freckles on his face.

“And you say _I’m_ the sentimental one,” Misha teases. Jensen turns away and Misha kisses his jaw. “I love you, too. C’mon, let’s get ready for work. They’re gonna have our asses if we’re late again.”

Jensen laughs at that. It’s not like they’re late often but when it happens and they show up together, everyone immediately knows what kept them from being on time. Not that punctuality has ever been Misha’s strong suit anyway.

Misha slides off the bed first, reaching out his hand encouraging Jensen to follow him. He takes it.

Slow mornings like this are one of Jensen’s favorite things about being in love with Misha. He always matches the pace Jensen wants to take and never complains about it. He’s gentle and he takes care of Jensen like he’s an expensive vase holding a bouquet of delicate flowers.

For Misha, he’s happy to be whatever Jensen needs him to be. He never hesitates, he’s always attentive, always honest. He knows Jensen will be there for him if he needs him to be. He knows it like he knows the sky is blue and grass is green. He loves Jensen, and he knows Jensen loves him back.


End file.
